nowhere, again.

nowhere, again.

I sometimes wish that I did not
like alcohol so much.

I get angry at it, but it does,
it doesn't do any good.
At some point, I come back.
And alcohol forgives.

Forgives me for my absence -- all is forgiven,
after the second drink.

We work well together,
alcohol and I.
I prefer morphine,
but they don't sell that,
at my liquor store.

I get up every morning,
before the sun comes up, and make my way.
To another room, for other things,
and eye the gun, sitting, waiting,
For what it thinks it's gonna say.

I pour a cup of coffee,
and step into the yard.
Watch my dog chase,
those nasty squirrels and birds away.

He gets his just reward,
back inside the house.
It's been over two years now,
and neither of us have seen a single mouse.

We work well together,
alcohol and I.
I prefer morphine,
but they don't offer that,
at my liquor store.

I sometimes wish that I did not
like living quite so much.

I get angry at it, but it does,
It does me no good.
At some point, I come back.
And life forgives.

Forgives me for my absence -- all is forgiven,
once I begin to think.

Even the road to nowhere,
must lead to somewhere.
Hopefully, it leads,
far away from here.

I sometimes wish that I did not
like nightime, oh so much.

I like walking in it, but it does,
it doesn't do much good.
At some point, I come back.
And the darkness must forgive.

The darkness always forgives.
Even in the light,
the darkness is waiting for me,
and I know what it will say:

Darkness forgives.